


Love is For

by pastelfalcon



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 10:08:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2105739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelfalcon/pseuds/pastelfalcon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Not gettin’ any younger,” Nick chuckles, low and a little self-deprecating.</p>
<p>“No,” Melinda agrees dryly, turning around entirely to raise an eyebrow at him, “You’re not.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love is For

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive me if this is poorly characterized on Melinda’s behalf; I could only stomach watching the second half of AoS.

When Nick steps into the gym Melinda spares him only a brief glance before resuming her routine. She’s moving quickly, body gliding effortlessly through schools of fighting from across the globe, every sharp or sweeping gesture executed with determination and grace. He’s watched her work a room before; he knows firsthand what she’s capable of, what she brings to SHIELD.

When she’s done she grabs a towel from where it’s draped over a rack of weights and nods curtly towards the showers.

Nick doesn’t follow immediately. He keeps his eye trained on her backside, on the smooth shift of muscle in her shoulders and the tight curve of her ass, sweat darkening the fabric of her exercise top. She knows he’s looking, because she pauses in the doorway, looking back at him with the softest half-bow of a smirk, before going in.

Love is for children, Natasha had told Loki when she was teasing information from his silver-tongued mouth. Love is for people who have free time, Maria had once said to him over coffee after a thirty-six hour lockdown. Love is out there for anyone ready to accept it, Phil had said earnestly when Nick was throwing out the gag Valentines his colleagues had piled on his desk.

Nick is not as jaded as Natasha but he’s damn sure as busy as Maria. And Phil… well, Nick doesn’t think Phil’s far off the mark. He never often is.

She already has the shower running when Nick steps in, her clothes flung over a bench on the far wall. Nick strips out of his own – sunglasses perched on top of the folds of his hoodie – and moves across the wet tiled floor to join her, pausing just before they touch so he can get used to the rush of hot water against his aches and throbs. “Not gettin’ any younger,” he chuckles, low and a little self-deprecating.

“No,” Melinda agrees dryly, turning around entirely to raise an eyebrow at him, “You’re not.”

“You know it hurts my feelings when you admit I’m an old man,” says Nick but he’s kidding, one hand sliding up to lean on the wall as he hems in close. He lets his beard scuff her chin before he angles his face for an actual kiss, tasting the tart aftertaste of flavored water he’d guess was cherry limeade. Melinda’s hand comes up, fingers carefully skimming his cheek and the bruise that’s softened it, and moves to cup the back of his neck as her tongue slides into his mouth.

She reaches between them with her free hand and immediately cups his half-hard cock, squeezing in a way that tells Nick she’s both glad to see him and impatient that they’re not already rolling around on the floor giving Nick some fresh non-Nazi-inflicted bruises.

“You’re in a mood,” he says with raised eyebrows.

“I’ve been horny for two weeks,” Melinda says tightly, using the constant spill of water to ease her strokes when she abruptly beings jacking him, “Two weeks of nothing but missions and agents tripping all over each other on the bus.”

“Two weeks?” Nick echoes with sarcastic concern. He gives her a grin sharp as glass and mutters, “Try four months. The most action I’ve got is when a Nazi with a mohawk tried getting smart with me on the way to a detention facility.”

Melinda tilts her head in a nod of sympathy.

“You know I’m not a damn _toaster_ ,” Nick says, lowering his gaze to her resolutely tugging hand on his dick, “You don’t push the lever and it pops up hot and ready.”

“Nick,” Melinda says in startled exasperation, a smiling breaking free of her previously mild expression. She drops her hand away and shoves it through her wet hair instead, laughing and looking away.

“Give a fella a few minutes,” Nick chastises her, laughing the entire way as he sinks to his knees. Melinda rolls her eyes but smiles as she settles her hand on the top of his head, nails skimming in a brief skritch.

Nick slides his hand along the inside of her thigh before hooking his fingers under her knee and hoisting her leg up over his shoulder, sparing only a brief wince for still being in the early stages of healing. He wastes no time and getting his mouth on her, nose crushed against her pubic mound, cushioned by the thick bush of hair against his cheekbones. He nuzzles in deeper, using his face to part her lips to get to her clit.

“Nick,” Melinda says, swallowing.

He arches an eyebrow at her but doesn’t stop, tongue teasing up around her clit hood and beneath, testing the thin skin’s tightness before pursing his lips and sucking gently to loosen it up. She’s already engorged, clit thick and hot with blood, fingers spasming on the top of his head when he suckles harder.

He moves on from her clit faster than he’d like, nose bumping in briefly as he goes lower, tasting the thick and aging come still marbled with sweat from her workout. The more he licks, the lighter the taste becomes, replaced with the sugar-tart slickness of fresh arousal. He dips his tongue inside her and gets a wall of flesh clenching tight in response, her voice reedy when she growl-purrs his name above the constant patter of the shower.

He fucks her hard and fast, tongue stiffened to work in and in and in undeterred by her endless squeezing, face crammed against her crotch. She’s working her hips now, moving against him with obvious determination, petting his head and occasionally using her nails to let him know when he’s made an error.

Nick gets back to her clit when Melinda starts calling him names, moving his lips around it in an intentionally sloppy kiss. “Fuck me,” she pants, a little harsh like maybe she’s gritting her teeth, and Nick laughs against her but pushes a hand up between her thighs obligingly. He gives her two fingers, groaning at how easy she takes them in and grips them tight, limiting his ability to thrust without flexing his arm a little.

Instead he starts crooking them, fingertips roving firmly over her inner wall, teasing clusters of nerves with every intentional drag. He lifts his other arm up and plants it against her stomach, shoving her back to hold her against the tiled shower wall and putting pressure on the barest curve of her belly. She hisses, insides spasming, and resolutely grinds in tiny, restricted circles against his face.  

“Ready when you are,” he pants against her when he draws his lips back just enough for a breath, and Melinda claws the top of his head, dragging him hard against her crotch and coming with his cheeks hollowed as he sucks over her clit and his fingers drawing come-hither signals over her gspot.

She moves quickly, long before she’s recovered from her orgasm, dropping her leg from his shoulder – careful of the bruising there – and forcibly hauling him up for a kiss that’s all Melinda Sexual Frustration May.

Nick pins her back against the wall again, ducking his head to avoid getting hit in the face with the shower pray, and hoists her up onto his hips, her hand between them to fit his dick inside her without unnecessary fumbling.

They fuck hard and quick, his mouth on her breast and his hands on the underside of her thighs to keep her up, water sweeping hot and endless between them. Melinda likes it two ways when it’s fast – her on top or her against a wall – and Nick’s always obliged her thusly.

Her head falls back, throat muscles constricting to hold back the louder spills of her cries, short, sharp gasps still breaking free on the edge of every labored breath she takes. Nick’s no fumbling youth so he lasts long enough for Melinda to bring herself off with her fingers framing her clit, knuckles bumping into him as she works quickly and efficiently.

“Stay with me now,” Nick says softly, because he knows what it’s like to disappear into work every when you’re fucking. Immediately, she relaxes in his arms.

“Nick,” she sighs out, and it’s all tenderness now, the Melinda May who sometimes puts her face in her hands when she’s tired or stands on plush floor mats in hotel bathrooms and curls her bare toes because she likes the sensation. Her expression gentles, eyes full of something bright when she meets his steady gaze.

“It’s too bad you’re place is here,” Nick says conversationally, still fucking up into her hard enough that their skin smacks constantly, “Could use this a little more often on the road.”

“Shut up, Nick,” Melinda tells him, face contorting briefly in pleasure, “That’s – that’s it –”

“I know what it is, I been doin’ ‘it’ for you for twenty-some years,” Nick says crabbily, but he’s joking, pounding into her so hard he doesn’t notice he’s coming until he is, the steady ache in his balls breaking on a surge of heat and snapped tension. Melinda grips his body with her legs and bucks against him and her hand, her tongue touching her upper lip as she shakes apart and goes slack against his chest.

“Much better than a vibrator,” Melinda says groggily, head lolling back, and she smiles when Nick snorts indignantly.

“Well you let me know if you ever figure out how to recharge  _my_ batteries,” Nick grumbles, easing her down to her own two feet but keeping close while they both get used to standing normally again.

“There’s a pill for that,” Melinda deadpans, and Nick gives her a look before swatting her hard on the ass.

“I might not be your Director but I’ll sure as hell still discipline your ass,” Nick warns her, but Melinda glides out reach before he get tag her again, her rich laughter filling the showers with musical echoes. She snags his sunglasses from his piled clothing and slips them on and over top of her head, shooting him a sultry smile as she stalks naked back out into the gym.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be,” muses Nick, turning off the water and following.

Nick is not a jaded man; he believes in love. He’s a busy man, a  _dead_ man, but he can be ready for this as often as he can.


End file.
